


Promise

by GabrielLives



Series: Tumblr gifts [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dead Gabriel (Supernatural), Drinking, Drunk Sam, Hallucinations, M/M, Mentions of Blood, set after they all return from the apocalypse world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:48:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22189690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GabrielLives/pseuds/GabrielLives
Summary: After returning from the apocalypse world without Gabriel, Sam drinks to help with his pain. But will he like what appears before him in his alcohol fueled stupor?
Relationships: Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Series: Tumblr gifts [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/871299
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24





	Promise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gabriel_Is_My_Guardian_Angel89](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabriel_Is_My_Guardian_Angel89/gifts).



> Hey all! I wrote this angst fest for @idabbleincrazy's 750 followers moodboard challenge. She gave me a moodboard and I wrote this fic! And I think it came out ok with the hard time I had starting it. 
> 
> One other thing, we know that Gabriel's eyes weren't burned out when he was killed by Michael, but Sam doesn't know that. Plus I think it adds to the pain.
> 
> Enjoy.

The clinking sounds of glass against glass echoed throughout the empty kitchen. With trembling hands, Sam tossed the lid from the decanter on the table; he had no need for it at the moment. His tumbler was filled quickly, whiskey flowing fast and swallowed just as rapidly so that Sam didn't have to look at the golden liquid swirling in his hands, reminding him of the thing that he had lost. 

Of the promise that had been broken. 

The bitter burn hadn't left his throat before the tumbler was filled again, emptied and filled once more before Sam’s drinking slowed. He finally took a small sip, hunched down over the table as images of Gabriel’s burnt out wings flitted across his memory. With a trembling sigh Sam downed the last of the whiskey, slamming the tumbler onto the table and rubbing away the tears that were starting to gather again. A flash of familiar, too bright grace flared out where fingers pressed into his eyes and Sam gasped sharply.

“Jesus,” he muttered into the empty space as he raked his hair back from falling over his face. Sam poured another, hoping to settle his shaken nerves. But as he raised his hand, drunkenness evident in the wavering of his movements, the air in front of him shifted, swirled and roiled around until the shape finally came into view. 

“Gabriel.”

Sam gaped in horror at the sight in front of him. He knew that it wasn't real, that the body of his archangel was left in that barren, disgusting universe. The alcohol impairing his mind was fucking with him and his overwhelming guilt was showing him his worst fear. 

Gabriel’s skin was pale and sunken, flecks of blood standing out from where it had splattered, the wound from Michael’s archangel blade staining Gabriel’s shirt red with gore. Dirt and debris clung over him, but Sam knew that it would be useless to run his hands through his sandy hair to tame the frazzled strands. The edges surrounding Gabriel flickered and blurred, and if Sam’s eyes settled to long in one place the image would fade a little bit more.

But the worst thing, the thing that made Sam’s stomach roil, were his angel’s eyes. Those beautiful golden eyes were left a charred, empty void, and Sam could feel the tears gathering again as he and this horrible ghost that his mind dredged up gazed at each other for a moment.

_ “Please don't expect me to do nothing, Sam.” _

The air left Sam's lungs in one swift exhale. He remembered this conversation. It was right before they had all left for the apocalypse universe, and Sam had pulled Gabriel off to the side to talk to him. 

_ "I'm still an archangel, kiddo, no matter if I'm low on grace or not." _

Gabriel had gotten so mad at him. All Sam wanted was to make sure Gabriel came home, and now all Sam can think is that trying to keep Gabriel safe is the thing that pushed him to fight. 

"Gabriel. I'm so sorry.” 

_ "Don't we have a plan? Get Mary and Jack? Get the fuck out? We’ll all be fine." _

The Gabriel of his memory moved just like he remembered, arms waving wildly and his expressive face contorting in annoyance. But overlapped on this...corpse, Sam would give anything to undo what happened.

"I wish-" Sam swallowed around the lump in his throat, body shaking as his words slurred. "I wish I'd have died instead of you." 

_ "You listen to me, Sam,”  _ Gabriel said as he pointed a finger in frustration, _ “I’m. Not. Worth. It.” _

“You’ll always be worth it,” Sam whimpered as he closed his eyes, the sight of those black hollow sockets gazing so strongly at him becoming too much. “Just promise me,” he pleaded, reliving the conversation as if he could change the outcome, “promise me that you’ll make it home. Please.” 

Sam opened his eyes to see the vision of Gabriel soften at his words, faded and fizzled as he sighed in resignation. 

_ “Ok, Sam. You know I’ll always come home to you, my love.” _

Sam wished he could see the soft look that Gabriel had given him. He remembered how it had calmed his frayed nerves, made him think that everything would be ok. 

_ “I promise.”  _

Gabriel reached across the table, and Sam’s tears finally fell as his lover’s hand caressed his cheek. He wanted to lean into the touch, to turn his head and lay loving kisses on Gabriel’s palm, his wrist, to pull him across the table and kiss those lips again, but at the first touch on his skin, Gabriel evaporated from sight. 

Sam bit back a sob as he sat in the once again empty room, not wanting the other hunters or, god forbid, Dean to hear him breakdown and come running. So he did the only thing he could. 

Sam poured himself another serving of whiskey, swallowing it down quickly as golden eyes taunted him in his mind.


End file.
